I searched and fought in America.

As they walked down the corridor, Rosen gestured for everyone to be quiet.

According to the red dot on the map, they were extremely close to the target area. Rosen casually pried open the tin shack next to them to see if there was a treasure chest.

"Squeak—"

The iron gate emitted an unpleasant scraping sound.

There were no guards inside, only a simple altar, and on that altar, a thin black boy was tied up.

He was completely naked, his body covered in eerie runes drawn in blood, his mouth stuffed with rags, and his eyes filled with extreme terror; he was clearly terrified.

This was the missing son of the camp leader.

[Side Quest Update: You have found the target.]

Current status: Extreme panic.

Rosen's eyes showed a hint of realization. He looked at the boy and saw that he did indeed look exactly like the boy in the photo. He quickly stepped forward, ripped the rag out of the boy's mouth, and with a wave of his serrated military knife, cut the rope.

"Don't kill me! Don't eat me! Waaah..." As soon as the boy was untied, he curled up into a ball and trembled.

"Shut up! Your old man sent me to save you." Rosen hissed, grabbing the boy by the collar. "Listen, from now on, I need you to keep quiet. If you don't, I'll kill you!"

Hearing his father's name, the boy calmed down a little. Moreover, Luo Seng was now full of murderous intent, and as the son of a vagrant, reading people's expressions was already second nature to him.

He swallowed hard, quickly calming himself down. However, he then grabbed Rosen's hand, his voice trembling, and revealed a shocking secret:

"No...don't go to that big building in the middle! It's full of gas cylinders! That crazy priest piled all the gas cylinders up there! Just one spark and the whole transfer station will explode!"

Rosen's pupils suddenly contracted.

What a ruthless means!

Rosen instantly realized that the armed squad outside was not a "hunter" at all; they were prey who had stepped into a bear trap!

That damned ghoul priest wants to use the entire base to wipe out this special forces team!

No, according to these lunatics, this is called a ritual!

He peered out through the cracks in the room and saw that the armed squad had cleared out the surrounding straits and was advancing towards the central hall.

Rosen pursed his lips. It seemed the other party was going to be in trouble, but he couldn't be bothered to care.

He glanced at the red dot marked on the map, pushed open the door, and headed straight there. There was no time left; he didn't have time to check each room one by one. He needed to grab his things and leave as quickly as possible.

Judging from the location of the red dot, it should be inside the large house in the middle. Rosen and his group walked quickly forward, but unexpectedly they came to a dead end, their path blocked by a room.

Rosen frowned, looked at the window, and gestured to Caesar. Caesar understood and took out a large sledgehammer from his bag. Rosen smashed the window several times, shattering the glass into tiny pieces.

Looking through the window, it was pitch black, and there was a heavy, complex smell inside, like the smell of blood, like a foul odor, and like body odor.

After Rosen climbed over, he took a few more steps forward and pushed open a wooden door. But as soon as he opened it and saw the scene behind the door, he only remembered his heart clenching violently.

This is a cell of about fifty square meters, crammed with dozens of people, including the elderly, women, and homeless.

When they saw someone enter, dozens of eyes turned to Rosen.

There were no cries for help, no screams, not even a trace of life.

Those were eyes so empty they seemed to hold a soul that had long since withered away, leaving only a lifeless shell.

Upon seeing the knife in Rosen's hand, the women instinctively hugged their children tighter and shrank back. Their faces were marked with runes, and the wounds were festering.

How could Rosen not understand where these people came from? His knuckles turned white as he gripped the knife hilt, and his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched with anger.

His first thought upon seeing them was that he wanted to save them, but then a deep sense of powerlessness washed over him.

But with the impending explosion looming, he could barely protect himself, let alone save these people.

He couldn't let a moment of impulse put himself and his brothers in a life-or-death situation.

At this moment, Caesar and his group arrived. Seeing the scene unfolding before them, and seeing Rosen standing quietly on the spot, they remained silent.

They were simply waiting for Rosen's choice; the Father was the embodiment of God, and the Father could not be wrong.

"sorry……"

Rosen muttered something, closed his eyes in pain, and left through the corridor reserved for the "prison guards".

The others followed him out, walked out of the room, closed the door again, and withdrew their gazes, continuing to wait for death in the darkness.

"Let's go! To the back!"

Rosen let out a low growl and, using the terrain as cover, quickly circled around to the back of the central hall, leading the group and the boy.

Following the map, they arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned server room.

The moment Rosen stepped into the room, a sense of crisis rushed to the top of his head!

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out in the confined space!

Rosen rolled to the side almost instinctively, the bullet grazing his scalp and striking the iron pipe behind him, sending sparks flying.

"Die, intruder!"

A cultist hiding in a hidden compartment grinned as he pulled back the bolt, preparing to fire a finishing shot.

This person was wearing a robe that was clearly of higher quality than that of ordinary believers, so he was likely a minor leader here.

"You're the one who'll die!"

Rosen didn't even get up; he knelt on one knee, instantly raising the Glock pistol in his hand without even needing to aim.

boom!boom!

Two shots to the chest, one shot to the brow.

The cultist had a bloody hole between his eyebrows, his body went limp, and he crashed heavily to the ground.

Rosen quickly stood up, and Caesar and the others behind him rushed in with serious expressions after hearing the gunshots. They breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the dead cultists and the unharmed Rosen.

Rosen also saw it; on the table behind the man, there was a silver briefcase, which was exactly what he was looking for!

Rosen grabbed the suitcase and ran away.

"Got the goods? Let's get out of here! Get out of here now!"

But just as he reached the door, he suddenly stopped.

Those dozens of living people separated by just one wall... those dozens of empty eyes were like a thorn, stuck deep in his heart.

"Damn it! You guys go to the usual spot and wait for me, I have something to do."

Rosen cursed, gave orders to everyone, and turned to rush back to his cell.

The group exchanged glances. They knew what Rosen was about to do, but since Rosen had given the order, they had no choice but to comply.

Rosen entered the cell, turned the lights up to the maximum, and kicked the door open.

"Run! Get up, all of you!"

As soon as they entered, Rosen roared, "The cultists outside are being held back! This place is about to explode! It's full of bombs! Anyone who doesn't want to die, get out of here with me now! Hurry!"

However, something shocking happened.

The room was deathly silent.

Dozens of people remained motionless, huddled in the corner. Some even showed a relieved expression upon hearing the word "explosion."

Rosen panicked and rushed forward to try and pull up a middle-aged man who was holding a child.

"Are you crazy? Run!"

The man stumbled as he was pulled, but instead forcefully shook off Rosen's hand, shrinking back into the corner like a frightened quail, muttering, "Don't hit me...don't hit me..."

Rosen was completely stunned, and an indescribable sense of sorrow welled up in his heart.

"It's no use, young man."

Just then, a man with gray hair and a half-broken pair of glasses looked up from the corner.

Although his clothes were tattered, they were still buttoned up neatly, and his eyes revealed a kind of lifeless desolation that came from seeing through the ways of the world.

"Thank you for your kindness... but let's just die here."

"What nonsense are you spouting?!" Rosen roared. "As long as you're alive, there's hope!"

"hope?"

The man gave a bitter laugh, pointed to the people around him, then pointed to himself.

"We have long since lost everything. We have lost our houses, our jobs, and our dignity."

We have all witnessed the cruelty of this world; each of us is covered with talismans carved by cultists with knives.

We're even forced to eat people like them. Tell me, in this country, in this damned world... what's the point of living for people like us? This place is hell!

What good would it do to get out? Continue killing each other like rats in the sewers over half a moldy loaf of bread? Or be captured and enslaved in a black factory?

The man looked at Rosen, a single tear rolling down his cheek:

"I no longer know... what the point of my continued existence in this country is. Rather than rotting in the mud, I'd rather turn to ashes here. At least... that would be warmer."

At that moment, the sounds of gunfire seemed to fade into the distance.

Rosen looked at this wise yet desperate man, at the room full of people who were already "dead," his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word in rebuttal.

That was the tragedy of the entire era, and he alone could not redeem it.